


Density

by paynesgrey



Series: Turn and Face the Strange [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara feels a pressure inside her that only the Doctor can cure. Mature scenes. Clara x Twelfth Doctor. Slight spoilers for "In the Forest of the Night".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Density

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to a_phoenixdragon for the beta!

She was running out of time. 

It felt that way every moment she spent with the Doctor. 

_It was silly,_ Clara mused, because he had a Time Machine and even when she’d been hiding her travels from Danny, she could go anywhere and be back in time. She could manage, though she felt her time with the Doctor was wearing thin.

She couldn’t explain it. Was she going to die or was the Doctor finally going to tell her to stay put, stop traveling with him and never come back? Did the Doctor ever reject his companions?

Regardless, she had to stay with him and soak up every inch of the adventures he’d allowed her. Danny couldn’t understand it. He was content to stay put and enjoy a festival or talk about the new season of whatever reality shows he was watching. He’d seemed to accept her need to travel with the Doctor - he’d even called her an adrenaline junkie once.

He just didn’t understand it. 

_But that wasn’t the problem,_ Clara thought. 

The problem was that when she was with the Doctor, she didn’t think about Danny and she only saw the Doctor. Even in the beginning when she’d gotten used to his new body and face (his new personality too) she’d seen some of her old Doctor within him. She’d seen that he was the same as he was before - the same man she fancied - the same madman for whom she’d dropped everything in her life so she could be with him.

As much as he denied it, as much as he’d shown obvious regret, she once wanted him to be her boyfriend. Clara knew the Doctor was beyond such a human title. He could play the role, as he had done once, but the Doctor was so much more.

“Do you love him?” Danny had asked her, and she’d lied of course. She’d diverted and she’d tried to block her feelings. 

Clara was most definitely in love with the Doctor, more than Danny could ever understand. She loved Danny too (maybe); she told herself she did. She knew it was easy to love Danny. It was easier than loving the Doctor.

Perhaps that was why she felt the pressure - that she needed to stay with him, be with the Doctor even though he wasn’t her boyfriend. She loved him and he cared about her, but he was bonkers without her. Or, at least she liked to believe that.

“It’s a silver string of Fate,” the Doctor had told her, bringing her out of her daze. They’d just visited a planet in the 60th century of somewhat technical aliens that still believed devoutly in spiritual love. “They find their mates through lifetimes. Reincarnation - I guess is the human concept. They call it the silver string of Fate.” He explained the ritual to her and Clara couldn’t focus, thinking of her own string of Fate to the Doctor. Through his lifetimes, something she didn’t always remember, but she dreamed about it. She’d pressured his last incarnation to tell her and fill the gaps. 

The Doctor had known echoes of her throughout his life - and she was born to save him. 

It was fate and it was entirely romantic. No wonder he thought of her as more than a companion at one time.

Clara was surely convinced he still thought that way about her, but the Doctor was holding himself back. He was too guarded (maybe from self-loathing), or maybe he knew she was on borrowed time with him too. 

Maybe by rejecting her, he didn’t have to get hurt. 

That certainly didn’t stop her from wanting him, from loving him. That didn’t stop her from pushing him - gently at first - but she would get to the middle of his feelings for her. Even as her instincts screamed at her, telling her she had such little time with him, she would understand him - all of him, before her time was up.

*

“You cannot be that dense, Doctor,” she scolded him. He’d commented on her shoes. They were higher than the last ones.

“You wear higher shoes, you’ll tower over P.E.,” he said with a scoff.

She smiled at him wickedly. “Maybe I don’t want to reach Danny,” she said, meeting his eyes for a long moment before turning back to her mirrors. She saw his mouth open slightly, looking at her with scrutiny. 

“Well, how do I look?” He’d seen the tall shoes already, and knowing just how long he’d stared at her as she finished getting ready, he’d noticed everything else. She was wearing a gold dress that shimmered when she moved in the low light. Her hair was cropped again, and her eyelashes long and dark. She turned around, and pulled up her cream colored gloves over her elbows. “You said you’d take me to the 1942 premiere of _Casablanca_ in New York City.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, watching her with few words. “You’re very shiny this time.”

“It’s a shiny Hollywood time, all gold and glitter,” she said. “You’re wearing that?”

“What’s wrong with this?” he asked, and she couldn’t say there was anything wrong. He’d worn his black suit again with the jacket and red interior. He still refused to wear a bow tie, but he wore a simple black tie with a white dotted pattern that looked like stars. 

She smiled. “Nothing, I guess.” 

“Come on, then,” he said, turning around toward the TARDIS as she followed him inside. He turned to her when they stopped at the center console. “You think you can handle a quiet night for once? There will be no planets blowing up or people to save. No moral dilemma, well, not beyond Hollywood morality of the 40s…”

“It’s perfect. I’ve been sort of… itching for a quiet evening out, if you can believe it,” she said, staring down at the console.

“Oh, well, not used to quiet,” The Doctor said. “Seems that would be something better for P.E.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, swatting his arm. She met his eyes and smiled. “You forget who has the time machine.”

He pulled a lever down harshly, still locked with her eyes. “Oh, I never forget.”

*

They’d returned to the TARDIS laughing. The _Casablanca_ premiere was definitely not quiet, as Clara managed to charm their way into after parties. The Doctor didn’t approve at first, but he’d found a way to be occupied.

“I can’t believe Madeleine Lebeau was taken with you! She wouldn’t let you out of her claws,” Clara said giggling.

“Is it so hard to believe? I got engaged to Marilyn Monroe once!”

“Haha, I know that story. You’ve told it to me at least a hundred times,” Clara said, rolling her eyes. “You have a way with the ladies, Doctor, even if you don’t want to admit it. And don’t look at me with those angry eyebrows and that sour face.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, and Clara’s laughter intensified.

“That was lovely though. Wow, Bogie is just so handsome in person,” she said, as she plopped down on the chaise sofa next to the Doctor’s bookshelf. She put her feet up and kicked off her shoes. “What a man, so much class.”

She stared at the TARDIS ceiling as the Doctor said nothing. He worked the TARDIS controls and she supposed he was taking her back home.

“Doctor,” she called for him and fell into a pause. For a moment she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to ask him so much. He made no noise for her to continue.

“Have you ever rejected a companion? I mean, have you ever traveled with someone and then left them - because you were cross, or because they were so horrible and they surprised you and you just couldn’t stand them anymore?” she asked.

She sat up slowly and he was already staring at her with a strange expression.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just thought... “

“I choose my friends very carefully, Clara,” the Doctor simply said.

“So you’ve never made a mistake?” she asked, getting up from the chaise and heading over to him. She stood by his side at the console. She looked up at him as she remembered she’d taken the heels off - the heels that she wore so she could reach him.

She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Maybe 1940s glamor and glitz was supposed to bewitch them and allow her to finally push the Doctor in revealing how he really felt. 

“What have you done, Clara, that you would think that of me?” he asked, his tone low and almost dangerous. His words sent a shiver down her spine.

“Nothing - well, I don’t know. I have just felt lately, that our time is running out,” she answered honestly and she was amazed at herself. She wasn’t usually this honest with him. She felt she was more like _him_ : guarded and mysterious.

“That’s silly, how could time be running out?” he asked as he tilted his head, almost to scold her like a father. “It’s up to you if you no longer want to travel with me, Clara.”

“No! It’s not like that. It’s just...nothing,” she said, and she turned from him back to the chaise.

“You must be tired. You’re not making any sense,” he said. “I’ll get you home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said and when she fell back onto the chaise, she stared at the TARDIS ceiling before she fell asleep. She woke up to him rousing her, directing her from his chaise to her own bed. She’d flung her shoes to the floor, groaning as she stretched out on her own bed. She looked up to see the Doctor watching her and she’d give anything to know what was floating around in his head.

She furrowed her brow at him. 

“You used to kiss me,” she said and she saw his eyebrows lift in surprise. 

“Here,” she said, pointing to her forehead. “And I always felt safe.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but if he did, she’d fallen asleep before she’d heard it.

*

Clara felt like someone was watching her. It was the strangest feeling, but it was almost like God watching her, in a way. Some all-seeing unknown pulling back the fabric of space, peering down at her with one beady eye.

When she felt this way, the pressure in her body seemed to increase, like a serpent coiling its way around her bones. 

She needed the Doctor more than ever. She needed his adventures, his Time Machine and his history. She needed his presence. This wasn’t an adrenaline rush. This wasn’t just love. 

Clara was becoming obsessed and she knew she was wrong. She knew it was silly, and if the Doctor knew, she wondered if he’d be repulsed.

He hadn’t seemed to notice; his behavior remained constant - distant sometimes and dense all the rest. She’d even made comments and braved flirting, but he seemed oblivious to it. Or, he rather thought he was above it. She couldn’t explain. She’d come home to Danny after one of her adventures and her body felt like it was blazing with fire.

_Poor Danny,_ she’d thought. She’d thought of only one way to relieve the pressure - if she could - and she’d taken advantage of her boyfriend.

Danny didn’t complain, but he was bewildered by her behavior. She was careful to guard her true feelings, but she had to let them all loose. Frustration overwhelmed her, and when she was underneath Danny’s body, she longed for the Doctor through the dark. She would even take him yelling at her - _anything_. 

Danny was sweet, but it wasn’t the same.

Her body may be satiated, but her heart was twisted and warped. Her head spun from the odd unresolved feelings. She felt like an alien in her own skin.

As Danny slept next to her peacefully, Clara tossed and turned in her bed, feeling like a rubber band, pulled so far out that it was about to snap.

*

Every time Clara saw the Doctor come for her, she felt the pressure inside her subside. Time still seemed to dry out around her, but at least with the Doctor by her side, she felt like an appeased god.

Something was still watching her, coils still gripped her bones, but at least with the Doctor - in the TARDIS through the universe - Clara was happy. Worries fell away, and she dove into the moment.

When the Doctor’s life was threatened, Clara panicked. 

He’d taken her into a warzone again. He’d hated it and he was resolved to let the two sides of the planet keep blasting at each other until he’d rescued the child.

The child’s name was Amy, and if the child’s tears didn’t move him, her namesake certainly did.

Amy wanted to rescue her mother. Her mother had been a diplomat on the one side (which the Doctor called Idiot Blue Side), and she had tried to call for peace. In a misunderstanding, Idiot Red Side fired, taking Amy’s mother hostage. Now their talks for peace were halted, and Amy’s mother was rotting in a cell, which was inside a tall abandoned structure.

The Doctor promised to break in and free Amy’s mother, while trying to outwit Idiot Red Side. Clara insisted on coming, but the Doctor wanted her to stay with Amy - mostly because if he didn’t come back, she could at least take the TARDIS home.

The idea of the Doctor not coming back scared her to her bones.

Clara waited while holding Amy and the night seemed to stretch like a yawn into forever. When the Captain of the Blue Side’s military came for her, he handed her a walkie talkie.

“Is this the woman called Clara Oswald?” asked the voice on the other line.

“It is,” Clara said boldly.

“I’m very sorry to inform you, but your friend, the Doctor? He broke our treaty rules, and he ventured into forbidden territory. He also tried to free a prisoner here which is a terrible crime. I am just letting his next of kin know that we had to convict him of his crimes.” The voice paused, and Clara felt rage and sadness building inside her. “I’m very sorry, but your Doctor is dead.”

She screamed and the voice on the other line chuckled maniacally. When the feed went dark, tears streamed down her face, she dashed toward enemy lines. Several people tried to stop her, but they could not catch her. 

She ran through brambles of an alien forest with only her crying to drown out the sounds of wildlife creeping around her. Blackness assailed her senses and she wondered where she was really running to, and if she’d ever make it to the Doctor without being killed herself. She had some small hope the Doctor was alive, but her heart and head were out of sync, and all she could think about was about her loss: about how she had done everything to save him and keep him alive. She’d begged the Time Lords to save him, dammit - and now he was gone after one stupid skirmish on some unknown planet? Clara didn’t accept that. She had to see his body. She had to yell at him and hope if he regenerated he’d know her again. She hated to start over. She didn’t want to have to get used to him all over again.

Not when she loved this version of him so much… not when she’d almost left him the moment he’d transformed and then changed her mind because _he’d_ asked her to.

She refused to accept he’d change again without telling her the truth, without her knowing how he’d really felt.

When the TARDIS suddenly appeared in front of her, halting her in her tracks, she gasped. (She hadn’t even realized the time machine had gone…)

The door flung open, and the Doctor poked his head out. Instantly, he complained. “Idiots. Liars.”

Clara’s mouth opened and she stood still, staring at the man she’d thought was dead. Behind him, a woman leapt out of the TARDIS and ran after her daughter. Their reunited and happy voices were background noise to the thoughts screaming in Clara’s head.

The Doctor had almost died. The Doctor had almost left her here. _Alone._

The man - no, the stupid alien madman she was in love with - almost left her again. Pressure tightened like a dense nova within her chest and she let out a sob. 

“Clara…” he said, looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.

“I thought… I thought…”

He nodded, but seemed annoyed. “I thought you had more faith in me.”

She ran to him, and he tensed as she flung her arms around him. “Hey, hey, the hugging.”

“Shut up!” She said through tears and she looked up at him, wishing she’d had the heels again. He looked down into her eyes, moved by her reaction. 

“Shh, shh,” he said, as he wiped a tear away. She sniffled and when he made a motion to release her, she arched up and captured his lips. He stiffened immediately, but he did not fight her off.

She broke away from him harshly and shot him a look that she wasn’t even sorry. Her voice was trembling steel as she scolded him.

“You cannot die on me, do you hear? I don’t care if it’s someone lying.”

“Yeah about that,” he said,and then he paused as he lost the thought. He watched her through a furrowed brow. 

“Wait a minute, what did you just do?” He pulled away and pointed at her. “No, no, Clara, oh Clara.”

“Come off it, I was scared!” she said.

“Pff,” he said, making a face of disbelief. 

“Even if I did die, I would have regenerated,” he said, meeting her face. 

“I _know_ ,” she said, choking back a sob. She watched his reaction to her words, and he seemed incredulous and maybe even a little pleased. “Come on, let’s get off this planet.”

“Hey! Aren’t you going to help us end this long war?” Amy’s mother shouted after them. Clara and the Doctor turned their attention to the Idiot Blue Side’s people looking at them desperately.

“Clara, I don’t think I want to…”

“I wouldn’t blame you…”

“But I can’t turn away,” he said, and Clara sighed.

“Then you have to do it,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “But you have to do it your way, Doctor.”

He looked down at her hand, taking in the gravity of her words. “Very well. But you’re right, Clara.” He turned to the crowd and immediately his no-nonsense demeanor and patronizing shouting shocked them into dutiful silence. “Listen up, you lot, we’re going to make some peace, and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to do!”

*

After making peace on the planet, he’d brought her back to her apartment and followed her to the bedroom. She plopped down and stared at the ceiling. 

“Doctor, there’s something wrong with me,” she said.

“Hrmmph,” he said. “I hadn’t really noticed.”

She sat up annoyed. 

“Because you haven’t wanted to! You want me to think you’re dense, that you don’t know what’s happening to me, but you do, and you’re not doing anything about it. You save countless people every day and you can’t even see me - right in front of you.” She plopped back down into her pillow. “I wouldn’t blame you if you left me. I should have stopped this long ago, like when Danny asked me, but I can’t.”

They fell into a heavy silence and Clara sighed. “He called me an adrenaline junkie, and I wish I was that.”

“What are you then?”

She turned to him, meeting his intense stare. “I just want to be your companion. That’s it. I just want to be by your side.” She watched his expression and as he moved closer to the side of her bed, she continued. “I don’t want to be your wife. I don’t want to be the companion that leaves someday because she’s had enough and wants to settle down. I don’t want to be the companion that you can’t save.”

“You can’t control the latter part, Clara. But you will want to stop someday,” the Doctor said. “They all do - well, most do. Most of them… we could have gone on forever, but maybe it was better not to. You’re human; you get older. You get tired.”

“Not me, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? I never get tired of you. I never get tired of seeing the stars.”

“How is that a problem, then?” He’d made his way to the side of her bed and she patted the spot next to her. He hesitated, but with pleading eyes he conceded and sat next to her on her bed.

Turning to him, she continued, “It’s not a problem for you. You’re good at shutting things off, avoiding things, and convincing yourself someone is better off…”

“Better off…”

“Without you,” she said.

“That’s not what’s wrong with you, Clara,” the Doctor said.

“Then what is?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said and he reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead. He led her back down on her pillow, pulling his hand away as he rose. “Get some rest.”

“There, you do admit something is wrong with me, that what I’m feeling isn’t right?”

“What you’re feeling?” He turned back to her and she longed for him to sit by her side again. He just hovered.

“I told Danny I loved him,” Clara said.

“Several times,” the Doctor droned.

“No, listen, I told him I loved him, but...Doctor, you’re not making this fair. I’ve told him I’ve loved you too,” Clara said. “But not in that way...but, it’s not true, is it? That’s why you wanted to let me down easily.”

“I wasn’t letting you down easily, Clara,” the Doctor quickly clarified. 

“I know,” she said, looking away. “At least it’s easy for one of us.”

A long heavy silence fell between them before Clara said. “It’s not easy for you either, is it?” She looked at him as he backed away. “It’s as hard for you, too!”

“Stop,” he said, almost hissing through his teeth. 

“Oh come off it!” Clara jumped up from her bed toward him, backing him against her door. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’m not imagining things.”

“No,” he said softly and she saw his face darken, like he wanted nothing to do with this conversation.

“I’ve been pushing you for months now, trying to get a read on you, why you keep me around! I’m not just your friend, Doctor! I’ve seen you through your lifetimes…”

“That you don’t remember…”

“I remember! Piece by piece they come back to me in recurring dreams. My head is about to explode I know so much, lived so much! I feel as though I’ve lived as long as you and each lifetime, I loved you. No wonder I’m a mess. No wonder I can meet a man and then fall for him in minutes! I’m broken in that… I love too easily because I was born to!” She flung up her hands and sighed. “No wonder I feel so close to you I can’t stand it...No wonder you can leave me on the moon, abandon me and shake my faith in you - and I still come back.”

“Clara…”

“I am your perfect companion,” Clara said, feeling defeated as realization dawned on her. The pressure she was experiencing, the attraction to the Doctor, it all felt fabricated and forced. She felt like someone was pulling her strings, that she wasn’t free. Just a puppet - created to please and serve the Doctor.

“I don’t even feel real anymore,” Clara said. “But that’s the point, right? I only feel real when I’m with you.”

Stepping closer, and the Doctor reached out and grabbed her flailing hands. He pulled her close and she gasped as he made the move without complaint. Bringing her against his chest, his presence seemed to soothe her and she gave into it - no matter how much she doubted herself and even her own existence.

“You’re real, Clara. You’re so real,” the Doctor said, his voice sounding like a soothing lullaby.

“You can’t leave me off,” she said. “You can’t let me go like the others.”

“No,” he said.

“Why do you keep me, Doctor?” Clara asked.

“You’ve already figured it out, clever impossible girl. Don’t make me say it,” he said softly, layered with his usual gruffness.

She leaned into him, pulling her hands from his grasp and resting arms at her sides. She looked up at him, studying his reactions. He froze, unsure what she would do next. Slowly, she rocked on the balls of her feet and then she arched up, kissing him again - softer this time, testing his taste, his permissions. He let her and her tongue slipped past his lips.

His once rigid hands slowly and gently cupped her face, sliding through her hair and cradling her skull. His presence and scent seemed to blaze around her, and as he held her head, she saw all her echoes through his lives burst through her mind like a brand new star. All of them, each and every Doctor, slid back into her memories, fresh and whole and coming home.

When he began to pull away, she grabbed his arms, pulling him toward her. “Don’t. Please.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” he said, a desperation coating his voice and the lilt of his accented warning sent a shudder through her nerves. “I don’t think… I won’t be able to stop.”

She pulled him against her - harder, feeling the universe, the planets, the gravity of wonder within him that she’d always desired. 

She didn’t just want planets. She didn’t even really want the time machine. Clara just wanted the Doctor. 

“Come, please,” she said, her fingers searching heat within his clothes. She still kissed him in sporadic waves, something he was now more inclined to indulge her. Kiss by kiss she was peeling away layers and he was being all too accommodating, even when his own resolve was barely restrained.

A dark blur consumed them as she finally pulled him on top of her on the bed, and she had to remind herself to breathe when his lips had found purchase on her neck. Clever hands had removed her clothes and she felt the beating of two hearts against her breasts. She sighed as she felt a different warmth, his slow, burgeoning desire that gravitated toward her precious heat. 

Long fingers mapped her like a star system, delighting in angles and soft curves. She wanted him to take back all those rude comments he’d said about her being built like a man, all those moments when he’d been too dense to realize she’d been flirting with him (or even stupidly), trying to make him jealous.

He sighed against her lips and she kissed him again, moaning as those long fingers of his had found something better, pressing deeply inside her.

“Doctor…” she whispered.

“Clara, there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not what you think…” he whispered between their kisses. Her fingers fluttered through his short hair, and he pulled back for a moment to take her in her form, moved by the ardor on her face.

“What is it then…?” she asked, not caring where this conversation was going. She arched her hips into him and he groaned. 

“Ha,” he said, seemingly forgetting his train of thought. “This is…” She pulled him down, kissing him fiercely into silence.

“Doctor, save me; save me like you do all the rest,” she said, and he pulled her into his arms. He held her, shifting them and slowly teasing her. 

She couldn’t wait any longer, but the Doctor seemed to hold all of time.

“Please,” she said, the pressure was so fierce she thought it’d turn into a monster and eat her. She needed release. She needed the Doctor, and she needed to feel relief from the dense darkness coiling inside her.

“Just remember,” he said, kissing her forehead tenderly before finding her lips again. “I did this all for you, but I’m still not your boyfriend.”

“No, you’re my Doctor,” Clara said, and he’d plunged into her, making her whimper and weep.

She moved automatically and he matched her pace like a long, cool wave building up like a tide under a full moon. He brought her higher and higher, the presence of him inside her, burning and full. And Clara felt more than just him, she felt his lifetimes again; and as the light flickered in her room, she saw his face almost change, back to the man she fell for, returning into the Doctor she loved now.

Tightly she wrapped her arms around him, moving her hips, drawing him deeper inside. She delighted in the little noises he’d make of his own pleasure, a rare melody that settled within her ears. She’d probably never hear their noises again. The Doctor must have a purpose in taking her. The Doctor must have a plan.

Or could he really love her and feel something for her? 

She felt him tense and with him he brought the stars. They called out together, feeling the waves crash within them, almost boiling and coming down to blanket them in a warm misty haze. Curling in his tired arms, she rested her hand over his chest and snuggled close. She felt his lips on her forehead as he nestled against her hair.

“Clara, my Clara,” he said lazily. “What have you made me do.”

“Made you?” she laughed a little. “You didn’t seem to complain.”

“I should have,” he said. “I should have complained very loudly.”

“It would have only made me want you more,” she said and she heard him cough awkwardly. “Oh yes, even more.”

*

 

“Clara, Clara!” The Doctor was calling her name, but Clara couldn’t see him. All she could see was a black misty cloud, surrounding her like a thick miasma. Did she fall into a gaseous planet? Was she consumed by alien pollution?

“Something’s got hold of you, but I want you to remain calm,” he said. She heard the Sonic Screwdriver. The Doctor swore under his breath. “Our psychic link managed to disarm it - and now it’s coming loose. Don’t worry, Clara. I’ll save you.”

“Doctor,” she said weakly.

“Don’t talk. An alien has got you. Some gaseous vampire. It feeds off of people’s history with others,” he said and Clara sensed an awkward pause. “I’m sorry, Clara. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“What?” she asked again, but the darkness was like a heavy anvil on her chest. She couldn’t see anything, consumed by the gray miasma. What was happening to her? Was everything else a dream? No, couldn’t be.

“You...and I,” she began.

“Sh! Shut it!”

Anger fueled her, but immediately it was zapped by whatever was holding her hostage, shackled by an angry spirit that only wanted to feed off her history with the Doctor. Why that? She hoped that he would explain. Through the darkness she squinted, trying to find him. She saw his form, poised over her and the light of the Sonic her beacon among the clouds.

“You, out! Clara is protected!” The density seemed to dissipate and the Doctor’s form was becoming clearer.

“I’ll give you one chance to live, to give up and let her go,” he said. “If you don’t, I’ll be forced to destroy you.”

Clara wanted him to destroy it. What good could this thing do on its own?

Suddenly, she wanted to scream. She didn’t know what the Doctor was doing, but it felt as though claws were pulling something out of her, stripping her bones raw of its marrow. When she managed to open her eyes, she still felt the pain, but she could see the Doctor. She squealed from the intrusion, and she panicked. The Doctor quickly set his hands on her shoulders, settling her down.

“It’s alright; it’s gone,” he soothed.

“Did you?” she asked, and by the grim look in his eyes, she knew he’d had to destroy the life-form. It already weighed heavily on him, as most decisions like this did.

She sprang forward and hugged him, and unlike his usual demeanor, he embraced her back, hugging her close.

“Clara, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Why are you?” Her words stalled when she saw his expression. Oh. So none of that had been a dream. “We…”

He pulled away gently and she saw him smooth out nonexistent wrinkles on his jacket. He look displeased, but more than anything she guessed he was cross at himself. 

“I had to form a strong psychic link with you; I suppose I could have tried a different way, but time was running out and the creature was taking over. The opportunity presented itself for us to bond…”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Clara said, trying to lighten the mood. “Monster or not, I always wanted to.”

“I -- Yes,” he said, and she wondered which part of her statement the “Yes” was for. Once again, the Doctor admitted to nothing even though the emotions were plain on his face.

She was going to suggest a second time without gas vampires, but decided to keep her thoughts to herself. The Doctor was clearly still processing his actions. Clara supposed he hadn’t done that with companions very often - if at all.

“Come on, tell me about this monster. How long was it in me?”

“It’s hard to say. It was using your emotions to get to me and your memories of going through my time-stream. The longer a person’s history, the bigger the meal. And with you being human, your history and time travel was an unusual morsel,” the Doctor explained.

“So you knew,” she said.

“No - I just knew something was wrong. That you were… not really yourself.”

“But I was,” Clara said. “I didn’t feel anything different. Except for the pressure.”

“Yes, that was the parasite part. A parasitic gas -- interesting,” he said, his attention trailing away. Clara supposed it was just as well; she wondered if they’d ever discuss what happened between them again.

“Doctor, just so things don’t stay weird between us, maybe we should talk about what happened. I mean, I do have a boyfriend, so don’t you think it’s weird for me?” she said.

He turned to her, surprised. “Is it? Or is that what you really wanted?”

Clara tilted her head and frowned. “Of course that’s what I wanted, but you’re the one who doesn’t.”

“I never said that,” he said. “It’s just what’s best. I’m no good for anyone, and such things never end well.”

“You would say that and I knew you’d write off yourself. You never allow yourself to be happy, do you? At least not now,” Clara said.

“What does that mean? Because I look old?”

“You said that, not me,” Clara said, crossing her arms. “I was perfectly fine with your face that first time.”

“First time?” he asked, looking slightly shocked at her audacity to assume there would be a second time. He started to walk away, and Clara followed, assuming he was returning to the TARDIS. He did, however, have to get one more quip in against her. “I don’t think your boyfriend would like hearing that.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Clara agreed and she slipped her arm through his. He tensed slightly, but after a moment, she felt comfortable and he didn’t pull away.

“I suppose I was wrong,” Clara said, and the Doctor scoffed. “I mean, about the gas vampires. I thought there might not have been any use to them, and it’s horrible you had to destroy it, but it did get you to admit something.”

The Doctor shot her a dark look and she got the feeling he was finished with this conversation. She smiled sweetly at him.

“I wonder if there are any more of those gas vampires out there,” she asked, but the Doctor didn’t reply. 

He knew exactly what Clara was implying.

*

Clara felt the TARDIS land, and when she followed the Doctor out the door she was home. After a ride back of small quips and uncomfortable looks, Clara wondered just how much her relationship with the Doctor had changed after the encounter with the gas entity.

He turned back into the TARDIS after she exited and she met his eyes with a smile. She wanted to assure him as much as she could that nothing really was changing between them. She loved him just as she always had. Maybe they both had to admit it to themselves, but at least it was open.

She was scared and hopeful, but she couldn’t imagine how he was feeling or what he wanted to do from here.

“Coming back for dinner tomorrow?” Clara asked.

“Ah, yes, right,” he said. “You’re cooking?”

“You are. You know my track record,” she laughed. He watched her for a moment, which seemed like an eternity. Clara felt the heat of impatience, so she leaned forward and snogged him again quickly and cheerfully.

“We’re doing that then,” the Doctor commented as she pulled away.

“We are,” she said firmly. The Doctor shifted uncomfortably.

“Won’t P.E. have a problem with it?” he asked her, though he sounded slightly smug with himself, like he had won a great battle and was itching to dance around and admit that he was right about Danny all along, whatever that meant.

“You don’t worry about Danny. I’ll take care of it,” Clara said.

His eyebrows lifted, as if he doubted her. “Will you?”

“Shut it,” she said. 

He sighed heavily, and she noticed how tired he looked, possibly from the gas vampires but maybe even more at finally admitting the feelings he’d been trying to hide from her. 

_He can’t distance himself from me anymore,_ she thought. 

He shifted, turning to leave back into his TARDIS. 

“Doctor, see you tomorrow then, yeah?”

“Yep, tomorrow,” he said, waving a hand.

“Oh and Doctor?” Clara called to him, and he stopped and shifted his gaze back to her bright smile.

“You know you really don’t have a vote in this right? Now that I know,” Clara said, tilting her head and gauging his reaction.

Unexpectedly, he smiled softly at her, and there was a wickedness gleaming in his eyes. 

“Yes, boss,” he said finally and his words hit her, creating a tightness in her throat.

She didn’t expect him to get in the last word or to frazzle her like that. As the TARDIS dematerialized from her flat, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

It was going to be a long and lonely night.

END


End file.
